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From Pharaoh's Hand Page 7
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Page 7
“No. I was alone all night.”
“Chris, we are going to have to ask you to come to the station with us. We have some more questions for you to answer.”
“But what about class? What about my parents? Don’t I need a lawyer?”
“You’re not under arrest yet, Chris. You can call your parents from the station, and they can bring whatever legal counsel you need with them. We need you to drive your car. Forensics will want to process it, even after all this time.”
“Ok,” Chris said, his voice barely audible. Tears were streaking his boyish face as he and the investigator left the building amidst the stares and whispers of Chris’s peers and teachers. By this time, a reporter from WBBJ had pulled up to the curb in the station van. He trotted toward Chris with a camera. The investigator stood in front of Chris and assured the reporter that this was not the time or place for a story. As Chris covered his head with his jacket and ran to his car, the investigator strongly suggested to the reporter that he go elsewhere for his evening story until there was more news.
“Is Christopher Daily under arrest in the disappearance of Elizabeth Merriweather?”
“No comment at this time.”
“Where is he going at this moment?”
“No comment.”
“We heard that Elizabeth was suspected to be pregnant, is that true?”
“No comment. Now if you please, I have work to do,” the officer replied brusquely.
The officer got into his car and followed Chris’s car out of the drive. The reporter rushed back to the van and followed. By nightfall, all of West Tennessee would know that Chris Daily was the prime suspect in the mysterious disappearance of the missing teen.
Chapter 9
Daughter of Levi
“And took to wife a daughter of Levi...”
Beth’s eye still burned from the powerful blow that Catfish had inflicted upon her. Without thinking, she had smarted off to him about doing his own dirty laundry, because her back was beginning to feel the strain of the gained weight. Her earlier morning sickness had passed, and Catfish had been feeding her a steady diet of bologna and crackers. Being uncomfortable in her sweats had prompted the whole argument. April still had some cool days, but her body temperature was running hot, and she was sweltering in her winter clothes. She had begged Catfish to let her go into town, but he would not hear of it. They had argued considerably before she met the back of his hand across her face with the reminder that he still had that knife. He sharpened it nightly in front of her, and even though he had not tried to force her into sex anymore, he forced her to sleep in his bed, tied to the bedpost until morning to prevent her from leaving or causing him bodily harm in his sleep.
After he hit her, he had opened his closet door and threw a faded cotton dress at her. She looked stunned as she held it out before her.
“Whose dress is this?”
“Shut up. Put it on and quit your whinin’. There’s chores to get done. I got spring plantin’ to tend to. Them’s some of Miz. Jones’ old rags. They might be a bit big, but judging by the way you’re puttin’ on weight, it won’t be long before you fill it out as good as she did.”
“Mrs. Jones? There was a Mrs. Jones? Where is she? She leave you and this stinking place for civilization?” Beth yelled at Catfish who was using the bathroom.
“I said shut up. That there is none of yer concern, Liza.” Catfish was standing in the doorway now. Beth was startled and half naked. Her t-shirt lay in the floor. Her protruding belly was obvious. Up until now, she had managed to hide her growing baby from Catfish. She had been careful not to change in front of him, but their argument and her smarting eye had her off kilter.
Catfish’s eyes wandered over her body, truth suddenly dawning on him. This was why she had run away from home. This meant more trouble for him. So far, he had managed to keep her out of the public’s eye, but a new baby meant getting the midwife. A new baby meant diapers and extra food. But it would also mean an extra hand around the place in time. The wheels were still turning when he finally spoke.
“How long was you figurin’ on keeping that youngun a secret?”
“What?”
“The baby. What are you, three, four months along? How long did you think you could keep it a secret? That’s the real reason you ran away from home. Got your little behind in trouble. Your parents didn’t know, did they?”
“No. I was going to Memphis for an abortion. I chickened out.”
“So that’s what you was a doin’. Gonna kill that baby. Now ain’t that lowdown. And you call me white trash.”
“I said I couldn’t do it.”
“Now what ya gonna do Liza? Me and you just gonna have us a little family now huh?”
“I would be home now if you hadn’t kidnapped me.”
“But you can’t go home now. Your family will disown you. You’re better off here.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No, I reckon ya don’t. We’ll get Momma Loraine to midwife when the time comes. I reckon we can use another hand around here. Always wanted a lil Cat.” Beth did not comment, but she loathed the thought of Phineas Jones being a father to her child. “I’m a goin’ into town for some milk and bread. You best have my overalls washed and hung out by the time I get back. And clean up around here. This place ain’t fittin’ for no youngun. Don’t sass me no more, Liza. You got to learn your place in the home. You got to learn who is the king of this castle. And seein’ as you’re in the family way, you might as well start learning to please a man instead of just keeping his sheets warm.”
Catfish took the truck keys out of his pocket and headed for the front door. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, Mizzus Jones.”
She watched his truck head down the steep drive and out of sight. She knew if the laundry wasn’t done when he returned there would be a steep price to pay. She didn’t want to put the baby in harm’s way again. Beth picked up his dirty socks, his underwear, two pairs of filthy overalls, and her sweat pants, t-shirt, and dirty underwear. She had long since stopped wearing the bra that was way too tight. She loaded them in a plastic storage tub, threw in the bottle of generic detergent, and headed down to the riverside to scrub the clothes. At least the weather was milder now, and the cold Buffalo River water wouldn’t numb her feet and hands.
She made her way over the rocky terrain. The sun was shining, and the trees were beginning to bud along the riverbank. A sea of spring color surrounded her. The birds had come back to roost and were singing, and bright green grass was beginning to fill in the muddy areas of the yard. Once she was beyond the old trailer, the landscape was a pastoral scene straight from one of her childhood story books.
She was startled in her thoughts by something that ran out of the bushes and brushed against her leg. She could not see what it was for the basket of clothes in her arms. She threw the basket down in surprise, making the orange tabby cat scamper away. It was a large, beautifully marked tabby with just a hint of white under his chin. Beth wondered how he had made his way out to her in this wilderness. Did he belong to Catfish? Where had the cat been all during the winter? She stooped to pet the animal, but it scampered away. Still, it had brushed her leg. It might not be as wild as she thought.
The months of imprisonment and terror had left Beth emotionally bankrupt. Surviving from one day to the next was her goal, and she had found little pleasure in the passage of time. She had grown bitter from the consequences of her youthful choices, and had decided that this was her deserved punishment--life with Phineas. She cradled her stomach. This baby did nothing to deserve these consequences. This baby had no choice but to move within the realm of its mother’s choices. This thought saddened her. She watched as the cat turned to her as if to ask what was wrong.
Slowly she followed with small, careful steps--no sudden moves. She wanted to hold the cat, to cuddle it close to her and bury her face in it, and cry into its orange fur. She wanted to feel the warmth of life again. She wanted to fe
el something besides hatred and confusion. The cat trotted several yards downstream, stopping each time to see if Beth was following, its golden eyes winking and urging her on. They rambled past large limestone outcrops along the riverbed. They rambled past overhanging trees that were just beginning to bud. The sun was shining warm upon Beth’s face, and she was actually beginning to enjoy the feel of the breeze upon her pale skin. The thin cotton outlined her pregnant form as it was swept around her petite body by the wind. Her bobbed blonde hair lifted gently here and there.
For one brief moment Beth was free. She held her arms out like a ballet dancer and twirled, letting the cotton dress swirl around her. She closed her eyes, and she was home. She was back in her warm, safe room. She was dancing to Britney Spears, and the world was right. The cat sat on a rock and licked its paws, and then growing bored with the dance, mewed loudly to garner her attention. Then it hopped off the backside of the rock and disappeared.
Elizabeth ran toward the rock. Down below was a sandy short beach. She caught sight of the orange tail as it disappeared beneath the upturned silver canoe. A canoe! For the first time in months, Beth dared to think of escape. Her first thought was to jump into the canoe and never look back. She ran toward the canoe. The closer she got, the more noise she heard coming from underneath--loud, insistent mewing. She got on her knees and bent to peer into the darkness. She lifted the canoe a bit to let some light in, and was surprised to find the orange tabby on its side with five kittens hungrily searching for their dinner.
“Oh you dear thing. You’re a mama. You wanted me to find them. You must be starving. I’ll bring you back some food in a bit.” Beth had completely forgotten the load of laundry by the wayside. She sat and stared at the amazing miracles of life as she contemplated her own impending motherhood. A good mother takes care of her babies, protects them. I have to get out of here, no matter what. I have to make a plan.
The mama cat who had been content to lie back and let the babies suckle twitched, then suddenly shot out of the canoe straight as an arrow past Beth. The cat landed on its feet, clawing and wrestling with something in the grass a few feet away. Beth’s eyes widened as she stood up for a better view. The snake was striking and missing. It had the familiar rattle on of its tail that Beth had seen on True Grit. The cat hissed and clawed and pounced, each time jumping out of the reach of the snakes’ powerful jaws. Beth wanted to cover her eyes, but couldn’t. She wanted to run, but was planted firmly by the canoe as if protecting the kittens. She was horrified with the scene unfolding. Then, it was as if the snake knew it had met its match. It suddenly retreated toward the waters and swam away, with the mama cat watching, her chest heaving from the exertion. The rattlesnake would have to look elsewhere for his dinner today.
Shaken, Beth watched the snake swim off downstream. She shuddered as she thought about the many times she had come to the river. But it had been wintertime. The thought of poisonous snakes had never occurred to her. This was a new fear, one she was unwilling to face. The baby moved inside her, sensing Beth’s agitation. She knew she would have to get the clothes clean. She would just have to be more careful. It had to have been at least an hour since Catfish had left, and the clothes had not been washed. She would have to hurry.
Beth ran back up the riverbank. She cut across the path by which she’d come, trying to cut off some time. How long had she been down by the river? She didn’t know. She was thinking of the laundry basket ahead when something stopped her cold--new dirt, the length of a plot. Something had been buried here over the winter...or someone. A new horror dawned in Beth’s mind, Mrs. Jones! Had she stumbled on Inetha’s grave? Waves of nausea swept over her, and she threw up in the grass. She could not catch her breath. The panic was overwhelming. Mrs. Jones is dead, and no one knows. This is an unmarked grave--no stone, no flowers. Who else could it be?
He would kill her too if he got the chance. Visions of him sharpening the knife each night raced across her mind. He would kill her, and no one would be the wiser. Her family already thought she was dead. If she tried to run, and he caught her, he would carve her like a Christmas turkey, she was sure. She had to get those clothes washed and on the line before he returned--before he suspected anything. She could not let him know what she had discovered. She had to act naturally. How she was going to do that, she did not know. But she had to get those clothes to the river before he returned.
She made it to the basket and ran to the water’s edge. A quick scan of the water and the beach around her for snakes assured her she was okay. At this moment, the most evil snake was Catfish. She had to avoid his venom at all cost. Hurriedly she scrubbed the overalls first, making sure she scrubbed the knees and ankles where they dragged the red earth. She scrubbed furiously and fast as if she were trying to scrub out the sins of the world. She scrubbed as if her very life depended upon the cleanliness of the overalls. She prayed under her breath:
“Oh God, I know I did wrong. I know I made this mess...but oh God...I need your help. I need a miracle.”
Then, she hung her head and cried as the green river rolled on past. She prayed as she had never prayed before; desperately she groaned and cried out to God to help her in our hour of need. It was in this sacred moment that Elizabeth found grace in the eyes of her Creator. She could not see the future that lay ahead, but He could. His heart heard the plea of this little woman-child. He would not turn His back on such a broken and repentant heart. Her head was still bowed, her eyes still firmly closed, when finally the muddy stain lifted from the fabric and faded from view. God had carried her sin as far from her as the east is from the west--to be remembered no more.
Chapter 10
Pharaoh’s Curse
“Death comes on wings to he who enters the tomb of a Pharaoh...”
April 2006
It was nearly noon when Catfish pulled out of the E.W. James parking lot. He had lingered longer in the store than he had meant to, but there was still time to get a bite of dinner at the Dinner Bell before heading back. He made his way into the restaurant and spotted Poke at his usual table. He also noted a few strangers seated at a table nearby. They had guns strapped around their waist. He nodded at them politely as he eased into his seat next to the window.
Although recently remodeled, the Dinner Bell still held most of its rural charm. The ceiling was plastered with old license plates from many different states. New bright red curtains had been hung, and the owner had finally gotten an all-you-can-eat buffet, which was only available on the weekends for the low price of $6.95. A television had been added in the far corner of the room and was tuned to noonday news. Even the bathrooms had been remodeled to reflect a more modern flair, although Catfish wondered as he soaped his hands why the men’s room would need a double sink. Only women went to the powder room in droves. Men did their business and got out.
“What’s with the firepower?” he asked Poke. The waitress made her way over with a glass of sweet tea for Catfish.
“What’ll it be today, Cat, the usual?”
“You know it, gal. And then I’ll need a takeout order later.”
“Fiddler coming right up with hushpuppies and vinegar slaw.”
“Oh, them boys is from the TBI. They been down at Perryville dragging the river most of the morning. Guess they is headin’ back to Nashville takin’ the scenic route.”
“Draggin’ the river? Fisherman drown or somethin’?
“Naw, they found a backpack that belonged to that girl that disappeared back the first of the year...”
“They did? They thinkin’ she jumped?”
“Don’t know. Them boys ain’t said much. What you doin’ in town today?”
“Needed some beer and toilet paper.”
Catfish raised the glass of iced tea to his lips. Poke saw the glimmer of gold on his finger about the same time Catfish realized that he had it on.
“Nice chunk o’ gold on yer finger there. You strike it rich at the Horseshoe?”
“Yeah, I had a
run a luck. Good thang too. With the new baby on the way.”
Poke’s eyes widened. “New baby. What the...?”
“Yep, bout time me and the missus carried on the family name, dontcha think?”
“Well, youn’s ain’t gettin’ no younger. But I thought she was too sickly.”
“I reckon the good Lord has smiled on us. She’s a takin’ it easy. I don’t let her get out none. Don’t want nothin’ happenin’ to her or the baby. Finally gonna get me that big strappin’ boy.”
“You old dog you. Don’t you reckon you oughta bring her into town and let the doc check her out.”
“Mama Lorraine will be a seein’ to her. We is fine. I reckon babies come into the world every day without a doctor’s help.”
“I guess you’re right, Cat. Man, yore days of freedom is over.”
“I just about got enough cash to start buildin’ that stick built home we been wantin’. Then I’m a gonna get outta the business, if ya know what I mean.”
“You can’t do that. What’s us good old boys gonna do for fun then?”
“Reckon you’ll have to take over the business if it means that much to ya. I got a family to raise.”
Poke let out a roaring laugh that made the investigators look up from their plates.
“What’s so funny ‘bout that, you old coot?”
“Nothin’ Cat. Nothin’”
The waitress returned with the steaming plate of fish, fries, and hushpuppies, and the conversation stalled as Catfish plowed into his lunch. Poke studied the ring on Cat’s finger with great interest. There was the imprint of a bird-- an eagle, or falcon with its wings spread looking over an ancient figure on a throne. That was no ordinary ring. He wondered just how Catfish had come by it. He doubted Catfish would have picked out something with those eccentric details for himself. That Catfish was something else all right. He wondered if they would name the baby Phineas, Jr.